Destiny Anew
by Wicked Raygun
Summary: The crew of the Destiny have returned home, and moved on, their mission incomplete. But not all of them can leave it alone. Four of them come together to form a new team of explorers at the SGC, and reclaim their destinies.
1. All Politics Are Local

**Title:** Destiny Anew

**Author:** Wicked Raygun

**Summary:** The crew of the Destiny have returned home, and moved on, their mission incomplete. But not all of them can leave it alone. Four of them come together to form a new team of explorers at the SGC, and reclaim their destinies.

**Disclaimer:** Whoever owns the rights to SG1, SGA and SGU, it sure isn't me. And I can pretty much guarantee you that this story will in no way make me money.

**Spoilers:** Up to the SGU Season 2 episode "Twin Destinies". Only in this universe, there was no Solar Flare and the crew made it home safely. No Rush 2.0 either.

I'll try to remain as faithful to canon for SG1, SGA and SGU as I possibly can. But since I haven't seen every single episode, and I'm not obsessive-compulsive, I might get some things wrong. Feel free to point them out. I'm a big boy. I can take it.

**Distribution:** Ask and you shall receive. Just email me and I'll get back to you quickly using new-fangled technology. See, I get email on my phone now. Surely jet packs and flying cars are just around the corner.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – All Politics Are Local<strong>

Captain Vanessa James stared out into space from inside of the George Hammond. She was on the wrong side of the ship to see Earth, so instead all she saw was the cold, black, vastness of space. It was a sight that always humbled her.

James wished the ship was still in FTL. At least that way she could look at the beautiful colored lights cascading around the ship in their wondrous chaotic dance. It was one of her favorite pastimes when she was off-duty. It wasn't quite the same, of course, but it reminded her about being aboard the Destiny. And it often made her feel wistful.

Not to say that her days aboard the Ancient ship were stress free or whimsical. No, being aboard the Destiny had been hands-down the hardest thing she had ever done. Period. But there had been a camaraderie aboard that ship that she hadn't felt before or since. The Crew of the Destiny had been more than colleagues, or even friends. They were family. And James missed that.

It had been nearly three years since Eli perfected dialing home from within a star. Although, "perfected" might have been too strong a word. In the end, Rush had to stay onboard the Destiny to keep it from exploding. As far as James knew, Eli barely tolerated Rush at the best of times, but he still took his death hard, blaming himself.

But regardless of all that, they made it home. And initially they had all tried to keep in touch, but it was all but impossible. There were just too many of them, leading too many different lives and it wasn't as if they could open up a Facebook group. The military would have their hides, to say nothing of the NID.

In fact, the last time they had all been together was three months after they had returned for the screening of Eli's documentary. She couldn't remember laughing so much, or crying harder than she did that night. For all the grief they had given Eli about his obsession about documenting every single moment of their lives, it had been genuinely touching to see it on screen. It was a real shame that the public wouldn't see it for another fifty years or so, if at all.

Hell, it even made her miss Rush. Well, sort of, kinda – almost miss him, anyway. The guy had willingly stayed on the ship to give them a few more minutes, sacrificing himself in the process. So there was that. Of course, she still wasn't sure it really outweighed all the shifty underhanded things he had done on the ship – made it hard to remember the guy fondly.

James took a moment to rub her right arm, her fingers going over the area where her tattoo was.

On the night of the screening, it had been revealed that Eli's infamous red t-shirt had been donated to the SGC's Preservation Society. A group dedicated to chronicling the classified exploits of the SGC. Apparently, Greer had heard about this before anyone else and managed a little surprise for the Destiny's famed "Math Boy."

One of the airmen on the base was also a licensed tattoo artist, so in a flurry of movement they forced a laughing Eli to a chair so they could permanently mark the words on his skin. He had agreed, but only on the condition that they change the phrase to something a bit more fitting. Three little words:

WE ARE HOME.

After Eli had showed off his bruised, bleeding and blistered flesh, many of the crew of the Destiny followed suit and got the same words tattooed as well. James had been one of the many that night who had indulged. It was, to this day, the only tattoo she ever got, and as far as she was concerned, the only one she would ever get.

"Captain James, please report to the bridge. Captain James, please report to the bridge," a dull voice over the Hammond's ship-wide PA said.

James frowned. Technically, she was supposed to be off duty for another 2 hours. She double-timed it to the bridge. As far as she knew there were no emergencies on the horizon, but it was best not to keep the General waiting, especially since she was kind of in hot water at the moment.

During a skirmish with Lucian Alliance forces, they managed to take over a Ha'Tek ship. It had been a laughably easy victory. So easy, in fact, that they should have suspected something was amiss from the very beginning. But they didn't, and of course it ended up being a trap. Someone had stayed on board and managed to activate a stolen naquadah-enhanced warhead.

The explosion wouldn't affect the Hammond since it was safely in space, but the residents of the planet however were doomed. Yes, many of them had at least supported the Lucian Alliance, if not actively helped them. But in her book, they were still civilians. She ordered her squad back to the Hammond, while she pleaded with the General to give her one chance to move the bomb away from the planet.

She got it.

She piloted the ship to a minimum safe distance and was just barely able to board a Death Glider in time to escape the explosion. The Glider took a lot of damage though, and frankly so did she. Fractured ribs were not a pleasant experience. Frankly, since it had been a minor miracle that she survived at all, that her injuries had been so relatively minor was another blessing.

On any other day, the crew would have bought her drinks and toasted her name, but it just so happened that there was an IOA liaison on board the ship at the time. And he had been very vocal about abandoning the planet that had been full of "hostiles". That put both her and the General in the hotspot. And as a concession, James had been temporarily grounded. She was confined to the ship for at least another couple of weeks, while the IOA reviewed her performance and assessed her loyalties.

And that was the part that really got under her skin, that the IOA would even hint that she might be disloyal to the SGC.

James walked onto the bridge and saluted her commanding officer, General Samantha Carter.

"At ease, Captain," she told her gently. "We just got official word from the IOA about your status aboard my ship."

James frowned. "How bad is it, General?"

"A bit of a mixed bag. Come on and step into my office first. I got a little surprise for you."

They walked the short journey to Carter's office, which was connected to the bridge. When the door opened, James noticed a woman in a business suit, facing away from them. Once the door closed behind them, the woman turned around and smiled at her.

"Camille?" James asked, dumbfounded.

"Vanessa, hello." She gave James a brief hug. "It's good to see you."

Camille Wray had been a rising star in the IOA before she ended up aboard the Destiny. James and she had had their differences on the ship, especially, in light of the attempted coup by the civilians. But, unlike Rush, Camille had eventually showed that she genuinely cared about the Crew, and had made it a priority to keep them sane. There were things that James had confessed to Camille, that no one else knew.

"It's good to see you, too, Camille. I take it you're my executioner today?" she asked wryly.

"Not exactly. I'm afraid that I'm also one of the condemned," she said with an air of amusement.

James frowned. "I don't understand."

"Well, I've been keeping tabs on all the Destiny Crew since we got back – helping them out, here and there – so when I heard about the brouhaha about you and General Carter, I got involved. And, well, some people at the IOA who aren't thrilled with me noticed and kicked up a storm.

"Long story short," Camille continued, "officially speaking, you followed the orders of your Commanding Officer and did nothing wrong."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming."

Camille smiled wanly. "But General Carter is supposed to know better. And it's believed that perhaps she no longer can be trusted on the front lines with our war against the Lucian Alliance. This whole thing was never about you, Vanessa. It was a political strike on General Carter."

"Oh, God, General," she said, looking worriedly toward her CO.

"Relax," Carter told her. "It's actually not so bad. I'm just losing the Hammond."

"What? They can't do that! Camille, there's got to be something you can do!"

"I did do something," she said to her calmly. "And so did General O'Neil, and the DOD, and the Chief of Staff. A lot of favors were called in, believe me."

"So you're not losing the Hammond?" she asked Carter.

"No, that's still happening. But due to some political maneuvering, I get to handpick my successor. Don't worry, the ship will be in good hands."

"But what about you, General?"

She smiled. "I'm going to take over at the SGC in Cheyenne Mountain, which will be weird. But at least I know I'll never be bored."

James smiled, feeling relieved. "Man, that must've pissed off a lot of people – uh, General," she said, amending her too casual statement.

Carter stopped smiling. "It did actually. And I'm afraid you got caught up in the crossfire."

"But I thought I was okay?"

"Officially," Camille clarified.

"And unofficially?"

"They were going to railroad you out of the Stargate Program, and put you out to pasture, if they could, by giving you one crappy assignment after another."

"But that's not going to happen," Carter said, calmly before James could lose it. "I couldn't keep you on this ship, but as the new head of Cheyenne Mountain, I can keep you in the program. I want you to lead a new SG team. I'll even let you handpick your team."

James was flabbergasted. "Me?"

"Yes. You."

She had always wanted to lead her own SG team, to go out and be an explorer, and here was one of the original members of the legendary SG1 herself telling her she could handpick a team and lead them. But then she frowned.

"Uh, General, I'm flattered, really. But Captains don't lead SG teams."

Carter waved her hand dismissively and grinned like a Cheshire cat as she stood up and headed toward her door. "It's funny you should mention that, Captain. To paraphrase an old friend of mine, being the boss has its privileges. One of them being that occasionally, I can do cool stuff like this—"

Carter opened her office door and stepped out. As she did a voice boomed, "General on Deck!" And then there was a scuffle as everyone on the bridge stood at attention. Someone handed Carter an official looking envelope, and she made her way to the front of the bridge.

"Captain James, Vanessa! Report!" Carter said in her clipped command tone.

James stiffened and immediately moved to stand in front of her CO.

"Captain James, for excellence in conduct, performance and heroism above and beyond the call of duty, and in accordance of the Rules and Regulations of the United States Marine Corps, and Stargate Command, I hereby promote you to the rank of Major."

The next few moments passed by for James in a blur as Carter stripped her old rank from her uniform, and applied her new one. When that was done with, the entire crew on the bridge started clapping.

And she couldn't stop smiling.

* * *

><p>"Camille!"<p>

Camille Wray turned around. Once James had been promoted, and General Carter announced her own reassignment back to Colorado, she thought it best if she quietly slipped out.

"Major James," she said back with a smile. "How can I help you?"

"I just spoke to the General. She told me what you gave up? I can't believe the IOA is firing you."

"They're not. Technically, I'm merely resigning."

"It's not fair."

Camille shrugged. "It's politics. Fair had nothing to do with it. Someone had to get caught holding the bag. That's just how these things work. I've stuck my neck out for the Destiny Crew too many times since we got back, and some people in the IOA think that shows a lack of commitment."

"What you mean is, someone who didn't like you used this opportunity to get you drummed out?"

Camille grinned at her. "It amounts to the same thing."

"Why did you come here anyway?"

"I wanted to see you, make sure I made the right decision to back you up. And, well, get one last shot at seeing Earth from space. I always liked the view."

"And did you? Do the right thing?"

"Yes. You risked your life to help people despite the fact some of them could be enemies. That kind of bravery shouldn't be curtailed. The SGC needs more people like you, Major. Besides, I'm pretty sure you saved my life more than once on that old ship. And it feels good to return the favor."

James smiled. "What are you going to do, now?"

"Join the civilian sector, and make a lot more money doing, well, pretty much whatever the hell I want. I'm ridiculously over-qualified, you know," Camille answered with a shrug.

James looked thoughtful for a moment and then asked her, "What's your take on the current war with the Lucian Alliance?"

Camille gave her an odd look. "That's coming a little out of left field, don't you think?"

"Just humor me."

Camille shrugged. "I think we're going about it the wrong way. We need more diplomacy. We're losing a lot of allies by only focusing on the ones that are potential trading partners, allowing the Lucians to swoop in and make their pitch. The less developed worlds are supporting the Lucians in droves, in part, because we're leaving them hanging out to dry. Oh, sure, we protect them from potential attacks by patrolling their systems, but that's part of the problem as well.

"The Lucians are painting us as an occupying force hell bent on an intergalactic empire like the old System Lords," Camille continued. "We need to win the hearts and minds, and we can't do that the way we used to. We no longer have a common enemy to unite us. We need open trade policies, and strong economic incentives, at the very least, to make these planets think twice about joining up with the Lucians."

James smirked as she spoke behind her. "Did you get that, General?"

General Carter appeared from behind a pillar, a thoughtful look on her face. "I did indeed, Major."

"I'm telling you, General, my team needs a diplomat more than we need an archeologist, especially, if I'm going to be doing the bulk of the First Contacts. Besides she reads ancient, knows like seven languages and she even has a minor in anthropology."

Carter looked at Camille oddly. "You have a minor in anthropology?"

"I was trying to date this TA in the anthropology department," she answered stiltedly. "Uh, what's going on here?"

Carter looked over to James. "It's your call. But I'll back your play."

James smiled.

"Camille Wray, how would you like to join my team?"

**End of Chapter 1**

* * *

><p><em><span>Author's Notes:<span>__ My first attempt at a story in the Stargate Fandom. I'm writing this mostly because I really am kind of bummed that SGU isn't going to continue. I was really digging the family vibe of the show. I have no idea how long I'll write this for. But it puts a smile on my face to write about these characters, so for a little while at least._

_Oh, I'm going to need a number for Major James new team. I'm not giving her SG1, because I've decided that the SGC will retire team numbers the way sports teams do. So that also means I can't use any other number associated with an important team from the series. As a matter of fact, if someone could give me an idea as to how many SG Teams the SGC employs at any one time, I'd be grateful._

_So, come on, people and join in my Stargate Bingo Contest. Daddy needs a number!_


	2. Disorientation

**Chapter 2 – Disorientation**

Major James walked along the corridors of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex that housed the SGC, really taking her time to breathe in her new assignment. The longest she had ever been here before was when she was first given the "Welcome to Oz" speech, and then several weeks of orientation and training.

She shivered involuntarily in remembrance. Dear God those orientation videos had been mind-numbing. Oh, sure, Doctor Jackson was a doll, but man could the guy drone. One would think that it would be almost impossible to make an epic struggle against parasitic aliens that thought of themselves as gods come off as boring. But he managed to do it somehow.

After that she had been deployed to Atlantis, for a while. And then it was one long deployment after another at various planets, returning to Colorado only for leave. During her career, Cheyenne Mountain had only ever been a way point. Her emotional attachment to the place no greater than one might have with an airport or a bus depot. But for now, and for the foreseeable future, it was supposed to be home.

James got on the elevator that would lead to the SGC itself, and began to wonder about her home situation. Right now, she was staying in a barracks set up by the SGC. She could either wait for an apartment to open up on base, or find one off base.

The idea of living on her own excited her a little. She joined the Marines right out of College, and was recruited to the SGC days before she was supposed to be deployed to Iraq. In all that time she had never been on her own. The closest she had managed was her cozy little room on Destiny. And then when she got back to Earth, she spent an extended leave with her parents using her old room, and then it was right back to the SGC.

The Powers that Be didn't seem to like her staying on Earth for any length of time.

When she arrived at the ground floor she found a young enlisted soldier by the name of Ewing at the bottom. She saluted her.

"Major James?"

"At ease."

"The General wanted me to show you to your office."

_An Office_, she thought in delight. _Awesome_.

"Lead the way."

After a few minutes of walking she heard a familiar voice yelling.

"I'm telling you, I've already seen the damn tapes! And I'm not sitting through them again!"

"Camille," Vanessa called out, interrupting her tirade. "How is my shiny, new diplomat doing today? Making friends and influencing people already?"

She found the former IOA liaison arguing with a sergeant. She turned upon hearing her voice.

"Vanessa! Thank God! Please tell the nice sergeant here that I don't have to re-watch the orientation videos."

"It's regulation, Miss Wray," the sergeant said.

"It's 'Mrs.'," she said, correcting him.

The sergeant frowned, and looked at his paper-work.

"It doesn't say that you're married."

Camille rolled her eyes. "I didn't say I got married in this country," she said back shortly.

The sergeant just looked confused at that, but continued anyway. "Well, regardless, Mrs. Wray, you have to watch the orientation videos."

"I used to be IOA. There's nothing there I don't already know about."

The sergeant stiffened at the mention of the IOA. "In that case, Mrs. Wray, perhaps you should watch the videos twice."

"Sergeant," James warned. "Be nice."

The sergeant cleared his throat, looking repentant. "Sorry, Major."

"Look, Camille, why don't you start watching the videos and I'll go talk to General Carter and see if I can get you out of this."

Camille sighed. "Fine. Just hurry up, please. If I have to hear Dr. Jackson drone on about the Nox again, I'm liable to blow my brains out."

James chuckled. "Alright, alright. Airman Ewing, could you take me to the General before my teammate sheds her mortal coil? My office can wait a few minutes."

"Yes, Major," she answered.

Private Ewing escorted James down a twisting series of corridors that ended up confusing the hell out of her. When she inquired about the possibility of a map, the Private actually laughed.

"It's not so bad, really, Major. It just takes a couple of weeks to get your bearings. Just don't be afraid to ask people directions."

James nodded. She figured if she could navigate around the Destiny, she could figure this out.

Meanwhile, General Samantha Carter was sitting in her office staring at the empty walls. It felt so strange to be there. She smiled sadly, thinking of her old CO, General George Hammond, the namesake for her ship, a great man, and an even better friend.

For a moment, she wondered if Jack ever stopped thinking of this place as Hammond's Office.

She allowed herself another moment of reflection and began unpacking her personal affects. She didn't get far into it, though, before there was a knock on her door.

"Come in."

"General, Major James reporting for duty, Ma'am."

"At ease," she answered, dismissively. "What can I do you for, James."

"My diplomat is threatening to mutiny."

"Already? It's only Monday," Carter said with a smirk.

"There's a sergeant trying to make her watch the orientation videos. She's already seen them, and really doesn't want a repeat performance."

Carter smirked. "Ah, yes. Daniel's greatest legacy to the SGC – great way to test the mettle of the new recruits. How far did you make it?"

"Apophis. Then I folded like a lawn chair."

"You're made of sterner stuff than me. I watched the videos myself on a bet. I made it as far as the Tokra before I started threatening people with bodily harm. And bear in mind that I was actually there for a lot of the stuff he was talking about."

James laughed. "Anyways, any chance I can get you to let Camille take a pass on the videos."

Carter sighed dramatically. "Fine. But let her know she owes me one. Oh, and speaking of which, I made that phone call for you. Everything's clear with his CO. Are you sure you really want this guy?"

James nodded. "Absolutely."

"Alright, but you're going to have to convince him yourself. You can hitch a ride with SG-15 at 1100 hours tomorrow. They're doing a resupply to Camp Hell."

"Thank you, General," James said, after snapping to a salute.

"Yeah, yeah, get outta here."

James exited her office and had the airman escort her back to where Camille was moments away from banging her head against a wall until she lost consciousness.

James knocked on the door.

"Hey, Camille, the General says you can skip detention."

Camille whooped in victory and quickly ran out the door and hugged James. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

James chuckled. "The General says you owe her one, though."

"Pfft! For this she can have my firstborn."

There was a pause while James mulled over something Camille said to the sergeant from earlier.

"Congratulations, by the way. I didn't know you got married."

Camille smiled at her. "Thanks. It happened a couple months after Eli's documentary. Some of the guy's from Destiny were there. I even talked Colonel Young into giving me away."

"Why not your dad?"

"My, uh, parents are very traditional. And they don't – well, you know."

"I'm so sorry, Camille."

"It's okay. It is what it is. I've learned to deal with it."

They finally arrived at James' new office. The place was empty except for a few boxes, a desk, a chair and about a hundred manila folders in several different towering piles. James made her way to the folders.

"I wonder if these are—" she said, trailing off as she flipped the first one open, and sighed. "Yep."

"What? What is it?"

"These are the applications and personnel files of scientists who want to be on an SG Team."

Camille's eyes widened comically. "That's a lot of reading. Looks like you got your work cut out for you."

James smirked. "Funny, you should mention that." She then handed her the file.

"What? Me? You want me to do your job?"

"First rule of effective leadership: learn to delegate. Besides, you're a people person, right. Find me a squad geek who won't get us killed."

"Ha ha." Camille sighed. "Well, I guess I do owe you for the videos. But in the meanwhile, what are you going to be doing, oh, fearless leader?"

"I'm going to meet and greet my new 2IC, assuming he takes the job. I have to go to Camp Hell to do it though."

"Why?"

"He's an instructor there."

"Oh, that's interesting. Hey, you know who else is an instructor at—" Camille's eyes widened again. "Oh, please don't tell me—No. Just, no. It's not, right? You're not recruiting Greer, are you?"

"Recruit Greer, you say? What an interesting idea. Do you think he'd be interested?"

"He hates me," Camille said deadpan.

"He doesn't hate you."

Camille continued to stare at her with a look of disbelief.

"Yeah, okay. He hates you. But in a 'I can't stand my sister' kind of way. Not in a 'leave you stranded on a nameless planet' kind of way."

Camille still said nothing.

"Look, at the end of the day, I need a 2IC who is going to make sure we make it home. When I try to think of the top ten people I'd want watching my back, he is always on that list – and pretty much at the top. And, besides, the guy got shafted when he got off the Destiny. And he deserves better than to be shuffled off to Camp Hell, training the newbies."

"Hey, there were a lot of people who wanted him out of the service completely. Telford had a lot of friends, you know," Camille said defensively.

James smiled. "You stuck your neck out for him, too, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Camille answered dismissively, as she turned her head to the folders on James' desk, evading her gaze.

"Camille, you old softy, you."

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

><p>Major Vanessa James walked into the iris of the Stargate in Cheyenne Mountain, and stepped out into another planet many hundreds of light-years away. This particular planet had a base on it that was officially known as the Stargate Program Deployment Orientation and Training Facility, a name that no one used outside of official communiqués and reports.<p>

No, to the good people of the SGC the base was affectionately known as Camp Hell. An entire planet dedicated to the training of SGC Personnel, both military and civilian. The courses both on the field and in the classrooms were brutal, but then again, they had to be. The enemies Earth had faced over the years were numerous, unpredictable and dangerous in the extreme. And that didn't include all the other myriad of ways that one could be killed while off-world, from the terrifyingly unique to the frighteningly banal.

For example, the recruits always scoffed at the cave-in protocol classes. But the number of people who had personally been saved by the knowledge from this course was staggering. As far as many people in the SGC were concerned, you weren't truly a part of the program until you've been buried alive at least once.

After asking a few questions, she was sent to the rifle range. James surprised herself with how much of the facility she was able to remember. She spent a good three months training here, but that had been five years ago.

She walked down the line and finally found Greer criticizing a soldier's fire stance.

"Come on, Sergeant, I know you qualified with the M16 and the M4. The HK416 is practically a clone of these weapons. Everything is in the same place. Take your time, feel it out and get me my damn groupings so we can all get some chow."

Greer slapped the sergeant at the top of his helmet, possibly a bit too hard, judging from the way the young sergeant wobbled for a moment. But sure enough, the sergeant took the prone position again, this time doing it properly. He then fired his shots in a calm, steady paced rhythm, while Greer looked on with a pair of binoculars.

Greer smiled. "Outstanding soldier! That looks like a successful grouping and one very dead Lucy." Greer hit a button and the target returned with a piece of paper that showed the sergeant's grouping. Greer signed it as passing.

"One hour, Sergeant – that's all it took. And you thought you'd be here all day. So what did we learn today?"

"That Master Sergeant Greer is a god among men, Sergeant!" he replied loudly and with a clear sound of amusement in his voice.

"Damn straight. And to who will you be testifying your new found faith?"

"To the entire base, for the next two days, Sergeant!"

"Excellent. Get your gear, get off my damn range and go spread the Gospel of Greer."

During this entire exchange James had remained off to the side and unnoticed. Once the young sergeant jogged off, screaming the second coming of Greer to all within earshot, she approached.

"Looking good, Master Sergeant."

Greer noticed the rank before the face, and immediately snapped off a salute. A second later, he realized who he was saluting and his mouth dropped open in surprise.

"At ease. What? No hug?"

Greer smiled and chuckled. "James, it's good to see you." He gave her a handshake. "I'd hug you, but it'd just give the kiddies something else to gossip about."

Greer did a double-take when he spotted the Major insignia.

"Major? Dear god, they're letting you kids be majors now? What are you, fifteen?"

"I'd watch it, Sergeant. It's generally not a good idea to insult your future boss."

"You're getting transferred to this hell hole? My condolences. Who did you piss off?"

"Technically, the IOA – but that's another story. Because the thing is, I'm not being transferred in so much as you're being transferred out. I have an offer. If you take it, you're off this rock by next week."

"An offer for what?" he asked hesitantly. But there was a small note of hope in his voice. "You do know that Telford basically grounded me."

"Telford's not running the SGC anymore. General Carter is. And she's already sworn to back me up. And all your commanding officers were more than willing to pass you along. You belong on the field, Greer. Everyone knows that."

James took a deep breath.

"The job is this: Cheyenne Mountain. New SG Team. First contact. I want you to be my 2IC."

Greer's eyes widened as he took it all in. An SG Team? First Contact? He never would have guessed that in a million years.

"But, 2IC's in the Teams are usually officers," he said, not willing to allow himself to believe this was for real.

"So I hear. But have you seen the kind of people they make majors these days? I don't want to waste my time babysitting some snot-nosed ROTC grad," she said smiling wildly.

"Careful, Major. People might mistake you for someone who works for a living."

"Well we can't have that, can we? I need someone who's been out there. Who knows all the ways a mission can go wrong. And someone who can make sure we get back home, no matter what. And that's you, Greer."

Greer looked thoughtful for a moment. "Assume I say 'yes', who else would be on the team?"

"Well, we're still working on a Squad Geek. But that should be sorted out by the time you settle in."

"Okay. Who else?"

"Uh, well, that part's more complicated."

"Who is it?" he asked again, suspiciously.

"Camille Wray."

Greer blinked. "Please tell me I heard you wrong, Major."

"You didn't."

"Since when the hell do they let IOA lackeys on the SG Teams?"

"She's not a lackey. She went to bat for me, and for you, too. Without her, we'd both be out of the program completely. And it cost her. She's not IOA anymore. I offered her a job, and she took it. She didn't have to, you know. She could make a lot more money doing whatever she wants. But she wants to help."

"We can't trust her. She betrayed us back on Destiny," Greer said, bringing up the time Camille and Rush attempted to wrest control of the Destiny away from Colonel Young.

"That was an extreme situation, Sergeant, which will not happen again. Camille would be part of our team. And that means she takes orders from me, and from you. If she doesn't play cricket, she's out. Simple as that."

Greer looked thoughtful for a moment.

"She really gotta do what I say?"

"Within reason," James said in a playful warning.

There was a long pause.

"Alright. I want in."

James smiled.

"Outstanding, Master Sergeant."

* * *

><p>Hundreds of light years away, Camille Wray was looking through the many, many files of different technicians who all wanted to be on an SG Team. She had been doing this for several hours now. So far she only had a dubious 'maybe' pile with about five folders and a giant pile of folders on the floor which she had dubbed the 'oh, hell no' pile.<p>

Currently she was frowning at a name on one of the folders.

"Kavanagh – Kavanagh – where have I heard that name from?"

Camille opened the file and noticed the included photo. She sighed.

"Oh, right, the Pony Tail guy."

She immediately tossed the folder into the 'oh, hell no' pile.

Camille sighed again, grabbed a random folder from off the table, closed her eyes and held it in the air with both hands.

"Come on, big money, big money, big money! No whammies, no whammies, no whammies!"

She opened her eyes, and read the name.

And immediately flung it into the 'oh, hell no' pile.

The SGC was practically brimming with scientists. No place on Earth quite attracted the best and the brightest as well as it did. But a scientist willing and able to do field work on an SG Team no less, took a special breed. They had to be smart, innovative, able to think under pressure and solve problems in a moment's notice. In short, they needed to be able to make MacGyver look like a Substitute Shop Teacher.

Oh, and it would help if they managed to do all this and not be crazy, which too many in the 'oh, hell no' pile failed to do on a spectacular level. Just about all of them had psychological red flags ranging from bipolar disorder to narcissism to paranoid delusions. And that didn't even scratch the surface, with some of the 'oh, hell no' pile.

She supposed it shouldn't be too surprising. The best and the brightest wanted to work off-planet, or at Area 51. Very few wanted to be on the front lines, being shot at. And the few that did, one had to be dubious of.

Camille grabbed another random file, read the name and began to sputter. Had she been drinking anything it would have been a perfect spit-take moment.

She started reading the file, and didn't stop until she hit the other side. And then she read it a second time, because she didn't get it. She just couldn't understand.

"Why in the hell does Eli want to join an SG Team?"

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes: Hey, guys. Sorry this took longer than I expected. But you know how it is. One thing crops up after another.<em>

_I still need to find a number for James' new team. Other than that, the story feels like it's moving well, at least to me. _

_Thanks for the reviews. It's a nice little ego boost and really helps to motivate me._


	3. For Science!

**Chapter 3 – For Science!**

When Major Vanessa James got back from Camp Hell, she was greeted in the Gateroom by Camille Wray, former IOA liaison to the SGC, a fellow crewmate aboard the Destiny, and currently her designated diplomat for her new SG Team.

And that reminded her, she really needed to find out which number she was going to get.

"How was your trip?"

"Productive. We know have a 2IC," James answered with a smile.

"Greer said yes, huh? – Well, that's great," Camille said with a wan smile.

James sighed. "You know, you two kids are really going to have to learn to play nice."

They had continued walking out of the Gateroom and into the hallways.

"Look, I respect Greer. I do. But I also worry about him. He's a powder keg and therefore a liability."

James rolled her eyes. "Don't hold back, Camille, tell me how you really feel."

"Hey, my concerns are legitimate. Even you have to admit that."

"I'll admit that Greer can be a bit – abrasive to anyone who isn't military. But you earn that man's trust and he will walk through hell for you."

"It's not his commitment I worry about – just his stability."

"Oh, come on! The guy is a rock."

"Yes. And that's my problem."

"Okay, that makes zero sense."

"He's always calm and quiet, and he does everything in his power not to get upset. Nothing ever fazes him."

"Yeah, I can see where that might freak you out," James said, with sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"It's called repressed anger, Vanessa. He bottles everything up. And sooner or later he's going to explode. And I don't want to be there when it does."

James sighed. "Look, I'll take this under advisement. And I'll be sure to keep an eye on him. But at the end of the day, we need to give him the trust and respect he's earned. And he has earned it. If living on a dying Ancient starship, with our lives on the line on a daily basis didn't push him over the edge, than I doubt living in Colorado will be what does him in. I trust Greer with my life and with our team's. And until he's proven himself unworthy of that trust, I am going to consider this matter closed."

Camille sighed. "Okay," she said after a pause, her voice sounding reconciliatory. "I'll drop it. And I'll give him a chance."

"That's all I ask."

"One question though."

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going? I thought you were taking us to your office."

"Me? I was following you."

"Why would you follow me?"

"Well, I don't know how to get to my office."

"Doesn't the military make you guys study cartography?" Camille asked incredulously.

"Yes, but in order for that to be useful one generally needs a map. I don't have one, and this place was designed with all the practicality and user-friendliness of a hamster maze."

Camille chuckled. "Come on, Columbus. India is this way."

After some navigating, and not a small amount of teasing, they made it to James' office.

James immediately noted the large pile of folders on the floor.

"How goes our search for a squad geek?"

"You mean **my** search for a squad geek?"

"I delegated, Camille. Get over it."

Camille rolled her eyes. "On your desk, Major. Four candidates who would be relatively easy to work with, and who are more than simply competent. But to be honest, I only think three of them would be feasible."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the top folder."

James did. After a moment, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Eli? Why does he want to join an SG Team?"

"My thoughts exactly."

"Isn't he supposed to be Lord High Muckety Muck over at the science department of Area 51?"

"Technically, he's only Junior Muckety Muck. Rodney McKay is the one calling the shots over there."

"Yeah, but still, I heard he has his hands on all the really cool geeky stuff."

"He does, which is why I'm not sure we'll get him, even if we ask."

James was confused for a moment, before realization hit her. "McKay," she said exasperated.

"Right. We can't just loot and pillage him from Area 51. His boss has to sign off on it. And that's McKay." Camille sighed dramatically. "Still," she added, "can you imagine having Eli on an SG Team? It'd be like having Carter or McKay, you know. And they're legends."

James scoffed. "Hell, he's probably smarter than both of them." And then a guilty look crossed her face just as she was starting to think of all the times Eli had saved their bacon.

"Vanessa? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," James answered quickly. "It's nothing. I just – well, okay, maybe it is something."

"What is it?"

"I never said anything," James answered miserably.

"What do you mean?"

"Last year – when his mom died – I was on the Hammond. And we were chasing this one Lucian Alliance ship that was using guerilla tactics in this one star system that I can't even pronounce. Took us months to track them down, you know. Anyway, when I finally heard about his mom, it had already been two months. And after that long, I didn't know if it was appropriate to send my condolences over email of all things. Felt like it would just be opening up old wounds."

"He did take her death pretty hard. But it's Eli. He would have appreciated the gesture."

"Yeah – I guess he would have – which just makes me feel worse now."

"Talk to him. It'll be fine."

James was quiet for a long moment. "We should talk to him. We should call him up and make him the offer. And if Rodney 'Can't-stop-staring-at-my-boobs' McKay raises hell, we'll fight for him."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Are any of the other three names in this pile even close to being as good as Eli?"

"No. Not even close."

"Then let's do it."

* * *

><p>Eli Wallace, current Assistant Lead Researcher at Area 51, and the once renowned Math Boy of the Destiny, had just finished a workout on an exercise bike, when he heard his phone warn him of an incoming text message. He picked up the phone quickly and read the message on the display.<p>

It was just a line of text with a four character ID, and then a second set of five digits.

This message would look pretty innocuous to most people, but it made him get up to his feet and head toward the nearest secure line station he could find. When the SGC wanted you to call, you called. Period. You never knew if it was an emergency or not, but in his experience, it was best to treat everything like the end of the world, until evidence proved otherwise.

Thankfully, being in Area 51, it didn't take long to find a secure line station. First he dialed the SGC's automated redial system, and then entered the five digit code included in the text message. As soon as it started ringing, he erased the message. It was protocol, and, besides, he'd already memorized it anyway. And, just for the hell of it, he'd also calculated the string's square root while he had been walking down the hall.

His mind didn't work like most people's.

After a few rings, he heard a voice answer, "This is Major James speaking. How can I help you?"

The voice sounded vaguely familiar to him.

"Uh, yeah, this is Eli Wallace. I got a message to call here."

"Eli? Wow, that was quick. I thought it would take you longer than that to get back to us."

Okay, now he knew that he'd heard that voice before. He just couldn't place it.

"The SGC doesn't usually send me social calls, Major. Um, can I assume that the world isn't ending right now? Because I'd like to start breathing normally again."

The voice on the other end laughed at that. And he definitely recognized that.

"Vanessa? Is that you?"

"Good to hear your voice, too, Math Boy."

"Holy cow, they made you a major?"

"Why does everyone always sound so surprised?" she asked, feigning hurt. "Yes, believe it or not, the SGC saw fit to make me a major. And that's not all. I'm putting together an SG Team, and I need a scientist. The position is yours, if you want the job."

Eli frowned, his spirits sinking.

"Look, Vanessa. I appreciate the call, but it's not going to happen."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, sounding really disappointed. "You don't want to join an SG Team, then?"

"No! I mean, yes! Of course, I want to join an SG Team. More than anything. But McKay will never sign off on it, and Telford always agreed with him. They keep saying I'm too valuable to the SGC to risk."

"Eli, Telford isn't running the SGC anymore. It's General Carter. And if anyone knows about being a scientist while being on an SG Team, it's her. If you're serious about joining, I promise I'll do everything within my power to get you here. But you got to want this. So, do you?"

"I want to be an explorer," he said, in a touching, earnest voice.

"Alright then. I'm soliciting the paperwork right now. I'll call you soon, okay?"

Eli smiled. "You got it, James. Talk to you later."

"Okay. Oh, and Eli?"

"Yeah?"

"Welcome to the team."

Eli's grin couldn't have been blasted off with a shotgun.

* * *

><p>The very next day, Eli walked into the main labs wing of Area 51, and was immediately accosted by one of its more interesting scientists, a black woman in her thirties named Dr. Rebecca Steele. She was generally a quiet, don't-rock-the-boat type, so her initial reaction to him was unexpected to say the least.<p>

"What the hell did you do?" she asked, looking as if she wanted to kill him.

Eli rocked back on his heels, genuinely confused by what she meant.

"Well, good morning to you, too, Becky," he said, sounding bewildered.

"Don't you start that innocent act with me! Something you did has got Dr. McKay running around the building reaping destruction like he's Godzilla in Tokyo."

"Relax, Becky. He's just in one of his moods. I'm sure whatever's wound him up this time will blow over by the time he's gotten something to fix his blood sugar imbalance."

"Do I look like a rookie to you? This isn't his regular Wednesday rant and rave. He's really pissed off, and he's taking it out on **my** project! He called us all idiots, kicked us out, and is in the process of rewriting months of work in ten minutes."

"Wait, you mean, he's taking over the Cloaking Device project?"

"No, I mean the other top secret project my team is working on! Would you go stop him already? This is all your fault!"

"Me?" Eli asked incredulously. "How is Rodney going postal on the Cloaking Device my fault?"

"He's been ranting about you being a traitor and a philistine, and then something else in Ancient I didn't catch. So I ask once again, what did you do?"

"I haven't done – oh, wait," he said, realizing what it might be.

"Oh, wait what?"

Eli chuckled nervously. "He may have possibly found out about me joining an SG Team."

"What? Are you crazy? Why do you want to join an SG Team!"

"Why does everyone have that reaction? Yes! I – Eli Wallace – the Math Boy – want to join an SG Team! I choose to explore alien planets and meet new cultures. I have sinned against the gods of science and lethargy, and must therefore be punished. Now, can we go and stop Rodney from destroying the cloaking device, already? I just finished the new calculations for the next benchmark test on that sucker."

The two scientists ran down a corridor that branched off to several different labs, eventually approaching one where a manic Rodney McKay was angrily looking over some notes on a tablet.

"This may as well be written in Sanskrit for all the sense it makes!" McKay said dismissively as he went over a progress report. He turned to a particular page, and his eyes widened.

"Who authorized these numbers? Because I'm fairly certain that instead of a stealthy cloaking device, what you've built is a stunningly inefficient yet powerful naquadria bomb! Congratulations! The Lucian Alliance sends it's regards!"

"Rodney, what are you doing?" Eli asked, in a soft tone of voice, that he hoped wouldn't set off his boss again.

"Oh, well, look who showed up: Benedict Arnold himself."

"Rodney, you're Canadian. That reference doesn't really work for you."

"Don't get cheeky. I'm surrounded by potential terrorists, and you want to abandon our work to go play space cowboy!"

"I wouldn't really classify it as abandoning, and those numbers are perfectly legit."

"What are you high? These numbers are an explosion waiting to happen!"

"Yes, they would be, if we were using the old naquadria reactors, and not the new, more efficient ones that you and I designed and will be installed on our ships in a couple of months."

Rodney blinked several times, and then sheepishly punched in a couple of lines of code onto his tablet. He then nodded awkwardly, after seeing the simulated results.

"I see, then," he said, sounding embarrassed. He then cleared his throat loudly and acknowledged all the other scientists in the room, whose work he had been trashing. "Good work. Carry on."

He walked past Eli.

"My office. Now."

Becky gave Eli a grateful smile as he followed after Rodney.

"You know, you really got to learn to treat them better," Eli said to Rodney. "They're all working very hard."

Rodney said nothing as he opened the door to his office, angrily gestured for Eli to get inside and then slammed his own door.

"What are you doing applying to an SG Team again? Didn't we decide that you are far too important to the program to be wasted as cannon fodder?"

"Well, technically I didn't reapply. You see, when I applied the first time my application was kept on file for a year for any potential positions that might open up."

"Don't get cute. I just got a phone call from Human Resources asking me to authorize your transfer to Cheyenne Mountain. They don't do that unless you accepted an offer!"

"Yeah. I did. Last night. I was going to talk to you first thing this morning. I wanted you to hear it from me," Eli said, sounding apologetic.

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't pack your bags just yet. Because I'm not signing off on it and neither is General Telford."

"Carter."

"What?"

"General Carter. She's running Cheyenne Mountain now."

"Sam? When the hell did this happen? You would think we'd get a memo or something!"

"Homeworld Command does seem to like to keep us in the dark," Eli joked.

McKay looked genuinely thrown by the revelation that Carter was running the SGC now, but after a moment he shook his head.

"Well, whatever. I'm still not letting you go. You are too important around here."

"Oh, come on, Rodney. There're plenty of capable people around here: Brody, Steele, Schwann, Mayberry—"

"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there, because I don't know who any of those people are. For all I know, you just listed the opening credits of the last Pirates of the Caribbean movie."

Eli pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Oh, for god's sake, Rodney, getting past the fact that you don't know who any of those people are, what's wrong with having one of them replace me?"

"Because I'd like to retire someday!"

Eli blinked. "I'm sorry what?"

"Look, I may not know the names of any of the people who work for me, but that doesn't mean I don't know what they're capable of, or the kind of work they do. Believe me, I pay serious attention to that. I know their work habits, their instincts, how they perform under pressure, how creative they are, and whether or not I can trust them to double-check their own work. And if they measured up, I'd know their names."

"Rodney, I don't get what you're trying to say?"

"I'm saying, that I'm waiting for you to finish your doctorate, so I can retire. I'm grooming you to replace me."

Eli's mouth dropped in stunned amazement.

"Oh, don't act so surprised."

"But, I am. I am surprised. You've never said anything about this before."

"Yeah, well, it's an awkward thing to talk about.

"Why me?"

"Because you're the only who's got what it takes. I can't let some incompetent moron take my place. It's not much of a retirement if two months later the entire planet is destroyed."

"Rodney, look, I'm flattered, but this isn't what I want to do." Eli took a deep breath and continued. "I need to get out there again. See what's out there. Did you know that for all the years we've been exploring the Milky Way, we still haven't been to even a quarter of the habitable planets with Gates in this Galaxy. And we've barely even scratched the surface in Pegasus. Who knows what will find."

Rodney sighed. "Look, Eli – and believe me, this is hard to say – we need you for a lot of this stuff. I can't just let you go."

"Samantha Carter did most of her impressive work while in SG-1. And you were literally rewriting physics while on Atlantis—"

Rodney sighed, and muttered, "Stupid ascension machine."

"I can still work in Colorado. And we live in a day and age of video conferencing, so trust me, if you need my input, you got it."

Rodney just sat there staring at him for a long time.

"Give me some time to think about it," he said quietly.

Eli nodded, and walked out the door. He certainly felt like Rodney was leaning toward letting him go. After all, at least this time there had been a discussion. Originally, when he had sent his application to Colorado, Telford had immediately flagged it and informed McKay. And they both told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't getting approved. It had been heartbreaking.

But now, he had a legitimate offer from an SG Team, one being led by Vanessa James, of all people. This felt important, and he had to fight for it.

* * *

><p>Eli was staring fiercely at a dry-erase board with lots of numbers and symbols on it. Technically there were many different projects that he was responsible for, but this one was his baby. And it was what he came back to at the end of every single day.<p>

He was staring at what would hopefully one day become the mathematical proof that would allow their starships to be able to power themselves with the energy from a sun – just like the Destiny.

Right now, engineering a solution was useless until they could prove that it was possible in the first place.

It was a weird Catch 22. On the one hand, he'd been on the Destiny, so he knew that it could be done. But on the other, it seemed like humanity's current grasp of mathematics just wasn't enough to prove it could be done at all, certainly not with their current level of technology.

Right now, humanity was like a fourteen year old kid, taking his dad's car on a test drive. They might understand some of the mechanics of how to operate the things they used, but that didn't mean they knew what was going on under the hood, or even what half the buttons did.

Nearly everything humanity had put together over the past few years was gained through trial and error rather than through genuine breakthroughs. And while it allowed them to stand on the shoulders of giants, it didn't always mean they could reach what they needed. Sometimes, the only way was to figure it out through blood, sweat and tears.

He would solve this problem one day. He knew it could be done. And he knew it would be him that would figure it out.

He smiled. It was his destiny.

"Eli?"

Eli turned to find Rodney standing in the doorway of his office.

"Rodney?"

"The first thing you need to understand, is this," he began without any preamble. "The Ancients, for all their knowledge and technology and wisdom, never really grasped the concept of warning labels. So make sure you know what something does before you flip the switch."

"This is something I already know."

"Well, it bears repeating, especially if you're joining an SG Team."

Eli's eyes widened. "Does this mean—?"

"I signed the paperwork this morning. You leave next week."

"Wow, Rodney – Thank you. This is huge."

Rodney sighed. "One more thing – despite how the military likes to assume they can handle everything that comes their way, at the end of the day it's always the scientists who have to come up with the last minute solutions that keep this planet spinning. So stay on your toes. And don't let them give you any crap. Your IQ is higher than their SAT scores, for crying out loud, and they need you. Remember that."

"Rodney, again, thank you so much."

"Yeah, well, don't thank me," Rodney said in snapping tone. "It means you've got one week to solve this – gobbledy-gook," he said while gesturing vaguely at Eli's marker board. "So you better get cracking! Oh, and I expect a full report by the end of the week on every single project you managed to worm your mitts into."

"Yes, sir," Eli said with a smile.

Rodney turned to leave, but stopped when Eli spoke.

"You know I could use a second pair of eyes – that is, if you're not too busy."

Rodney didn't say anything. Instead he went to stand next to Eli, his eyes going over the different calculations on the marker board. It was a bonding moment, a sign of respect between two great minds.

Or at least it was until after about five minutes of silence Eli spoke.

"Soooo – gonna miss me?"

"Don't make me fire you."

**End of Chapter 3**

* * *

><p><em><span>Author's Note<span>__: Boy, I've been dying to write this scene for a while. It didn't come out exactly the way I wanted it to, but maybe it came out the way it needed to._

_I'm not completely sure I got across Rodney's flippant attitude, but I think it's because on Atlantis, he genuinely grew as a person, and it's hard for me to imagine that he wouldn't continue that trend._

_Anyways, thanks for the reviews. I'm glad you guys are appreciating this._


	4. A Dying Breed

**Chapter 4 – A Dying Breed**

Samantha Carter liked to consider herself nearly unflappable. The strange and unusual had long since lost any ability to surprise her anymore. She supposed that might mean she was a bit jaded, but honestly she had just sort of learned to expect to be surprised.

Her temper had never been much to write home about either. Oh, she could get mad, for sure. And occasionally she could be cranky, but she was never really one to go off on people. Her anger tended to be more the quiet and seething sort, rather than full blown explosions of drama.

But here she was looking over exploration logs for the last few years, and she was both shocked and utterly pissed off. She had no idea that this was going on. She wondered if any of her colleagues did.

Ten planets. Only ten measly planets in over three years. That's it. That's how many new planets had been "explored" in the last three years.

Carter slammed a fist onto her desk with enough force to shake the walls a bit. She was going to kill Telford when she found him.

Oh, and it just kept getting better. Those ten planets had only been explored for a matter of three hours each. Just enough time to see if there were significant amounts of naquadah or technology in the area. And then they just moved on.

They didn't even do a perimeter search from the gate! They just turned on their tools, ran their scans and that was it.

At the end of the document summarizing all the exploration missions that didn't happen, there was a note by Telford that had her gritting her teeth.

_Due to the lack of any significant gains made during the last several years, the tentative nature of our relationship with several planets due to inroads made by the Lucian Alliance, and, quite simply put, the outright prohibitive cost – It is my personal recommendation that all off-world travel be restricted to known, safe designations and that further exploration of new planets be prohibited until such time that the safety of an Exploration Team can be virtually guaranteed. In addition, the safety of planet Earth is far more important than any archaeological curiosities we might discover during this time of war. Our resources are best spent on the Earth Fleet of ships currently in service and about to be put into service._

_See attached documents for a detailed Cost versus Benefit Analysis._

Carter slammed the paperwork onto her desk and stood up so fast her chair overturned. She stormed out of her office, opening her door so hard that a picture fell off her wall, the glass shattering.

She didn't care.

"Who the hell is my secretary!"

A frightened Lieutenant tentatively raised his hand.

"That would be me, General Carter."

"Get me General O'Neill on the phone. Now," she said in a quietly menacing voice.

"But, General, it would be nearly midnight in D.C."

"That wasn't a suggestion!" Carted said as she slammed her door shut.

Eight minutes later, Carter's secretary forwarded a call to her office line from General O'Neill.

"Sam? Is the world ending?" Jack asked tentatively.

"Not yet," she said coldly. "Jack, what the hell has been going on here at Stargate Command?"

"You're going to have to be more specific, Sam."

"I'm looking at a roster of twelve SG Teams, and not a single one of them are designated for Exploration or First Contact. Half of them don't have a single Field Scientist, and none of them have archeologists or anthropologists. And on top of that, we haven't explored a new planet in nearly ten months. And when I say 'explored', I use the term loosely. What the hell is going on here, Jack!"

There was a long, suffering sigh at the other end of her phone.

"Oh. You mean that."

"Yeah, Jack. That."

"Well the short answer would be Telford. He doesn't see the point of continuing the SGC beyond using it as a logistics resupply point. He wants to put the focus nearly entirely on the Fleet and so do a lot of other people. And since he's ambitious and willing to follow orders, all in the name of a promotion, he's been slowly making the SGC as irrelevant as possible."

"Are you telling me that you let Telford turn the SGC into a freaking Costco!"

"No, I didn't 'let' him do anything. I raised hell, but was over-ruled. It happens. And unfortunately, lately, it's been happening a lot."

"You're the Secretary of Homeworld Security."

"Yeah, so they keep telling me. That doesn't mean what it used to, Sam. The Lucian Alliance is an annoyance, but not a galaxy-wide threat. And since we're not really united against a common enemy like we used to be, things are becoming more and more political. The bottom line is that exploration isn't seen as important as it used to be."

Carter sighed. "Why didn't I know anything about this?"

"You've been Captain Kirking it across the galaxy, Sam. Hell, when was the last time you even used a Stargate? Telford's done a good job dismantling the place, making it unimportant. And he did it slowly. I barely noticed it myself. And when I did, it was pretty much too late to do anything about it."

"Is this why Daniel left?"

"He wouldn't say, but – yeah, that's what I think."

"What if I asked him to come back?"

"He might, for you. But I hear he's pretty happy in Pegasus. There's less regulation over there to get in his way. But still, send him a box of Kleenex and tell him I said, 'hi'."

Carter chuckled humorlessly.

"Is this why I was given Cheyenne Mountain, Jack? Because the IOA thinks it's unimportant?"

Jack hesitated, but then finally answered. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Lovely."

"Oh, and Sam? There's one more thing I need to tell you. I was gonna call you about it tomorrow, but, since I got you on the phone, well—"

"What is it?"

"It's about that kid from Destiny?"

"Which one?"

"The math wiz."

"Eli Wallace? What about him?"

"The IOA want him back in Area 51. They're not thrilled you pulled him out of there. And when they found out it was to join an SG Team, they went ballistic. And not to mention, you've got him on a team with three of the IOA's most wanted. The political maneuvering hasn't started yet, but I can feel it in the air. A bad moon's a rising, Sam."

Carter scowled.

"One team? I try to put together one exploration team, and already I'm in trouble for it? Are you kidding?"

"Basically, yeah."

There was a long pause. "To hell with the IOA," she said coldly.

"Sam – it's not like I don't get the sentiment, but you need to be careful here."

"No, General, I will not placate the IOA any longer. I'm going to run this mountain the way I see fit. The IOA can just bite me."

"They tend to have pretty good teeth, Sam. You need to be sure about this."

"I am sure. The SGC is about exploration. Period. I may only have one team, now, but I don't care. I'm going to make damn sure people remember why we need the Stargate."

"Good. Because as of this moment, that's the only way you'll be able to keep the SGC. You need to impress the bigwigs so much, they don't have any choice but to leave you alone. Anything less than complete success will not be tolerated – which leads me to my next question. This new team? This Major James? Can she deliver?"

Carter didn't even hesitate.

"If it was within my power, I'd give her SG-1. Hell, as far as I'm concerned she is SG-1. She's charismatic, quick on her feet, and inspires leadership and loyalty like few other people I've seen. She put this team, together and I'm going to back them up, every step of the way, General. She's one of us."

"And we're a dying breed," O'Neill remarked sadly. "Okay. You want my support. You got it. Do what you gotta do, Sam. Just be careful, okay."

"You got it, General."

After a few additional pleasantries, Carter ended the call.

It was just now starting to dawn on her what she was placing on Major James' shoulders – essentially, the future of the Stargate.

Strangely, she felt remarkably calm about it.

**End of Chapter 4**

* * *

><p><em><span>Author's Note:<span>__ Just a short one for now. Now I need to bring the Team together and start them off on missions. If anyone has any recommendations on what you'd like to see the Team do, I have zero qualms about adapting other people's ideas and suggestions._

_You know, when I started writing this story I wasn't aware how much politics were going to play a part. Truthfully, I'd like to involve as little as possible. But the West Wing fan in me almost can't help it. I have a need to try and explain everything._

_Plus, this is something I can imagine happening to the SGC as ships become more prolific. And frankly, it's not hard to imagine political forces advocating a form of isolationism, since that's something repeated in history, again and again._

_Also I don't know if I'm being unnecessarily mean to Telford's character, or not, but he's always struck me as being very ambitious. I don't hate the character at all, but all of these actions I'm having him take seem plausible to me. I mean, even when he was helping Young, he always seemed like he was plotting to take his place._


	5. You Have a Go

**Chapter 5 – You have a go.**

Eli was all smiles when he was checked into the first of many security checkpoints at Cheyenne Mountain. When he was directed to Human Resources for his new photo ID, he made a point to smile extra goofily. And even as he was lead from one area to another and asked a million questions that ranged from the banal to the bizarre, his enthusiasm never wavered.

Because he was finally joining an SG Team.

Hell, he'd even watch the orientation videos again!

Well, okay – maybe just one. And only if they asked!

Still, he was feeling great. And then finally, someone was sent up to meet him. He blinked his eyes when he saw her.

"Camile?"

"Hello, Eli." she said with a wide smile.

"Holy crap! What are you doing here!" he asked excitedly, while hurrying over to her to give her a hug.

"Same thing you are. I'm joining Vanessa James' SG Team. I'm going to function primarily as a diplomat when we have contact with new civilizations."

"This is amazing! How come James didn't say anything?"

"I asked her not to. I wanted to surprise you.

"Well, it worked. Hey, how's Sarah doing?"

As this point they stepped into the elevator, for the long trip down.

"Mostly she's just thrilled I'm not with the IOA anymore. By the end there, I was really dreading going to work. I wasn't quite at a level of being clinically depressed, but I was definitely on my way there. She keeps saying I've been smiling a lot more. She wasn't too thrilled about moving to Colorado, but she's been coming around on it. I took her to the Grand Canyon over the weekend and she loved it. She's been taking care of the house hunting for us. And she's thinking about setting her next book here."

"That'd be awesome! I finished her last book a couple weeks back, and it was great. Hey, is she ever going to get John and Emily together?" Eli asked, referring to two of the main characters in Sarah's series about a group of retired police officers who became private investigators. A perfectly mundane series of protagonists with perfectly mundane problems that she used to combat the extraordinary circumstances that kept her separated from the woman she loved.

"I have no idea. Whenever I ask, she keeps telling me that I'm missing the point."

Sarah had always wanted to write, but she never found the time. But when Camile had been stuck on Destiny, writing had been one of the few things that calmed her enough to stay functional. And it was probably the one thing that kept her from becoming an alcoholic. Well, that and checking in on Eli's mother, who beyond being just a friend also became a sounding board for her ideas, and even helped her with some early proof-reading.

Her first novel was published about three months after Camile and the others had returned from the Destiny. Thankfully it was wildly successful because she hadn't stopped writing since. It allowed her to quit her job and write full-time. It also meant that moving to Colorado was relatively painless for them.

They continued talking until they finally reached the level where the SGC was kept. When the elevator doors opened they walked past a couple of airmen. Eli noticed the Stargate Command insignia on their shoulder patches and could not stop smiling.

"Excited?" Camile asked with a smirk.

"Are you kidding me? Exploration of unknown planets? Meeting new civilizations? It's like being back on the Destiny only this time we all have deodorant and spare clothes."

Camile shuddered. "Oh, don't remind me."

"Oh, come on. You can't tell me you don't miss it."

"I miss the people and the camaraderie. I do not however miss being stranded on the Destiny. You're a guy, so for you all you missed was toothpaste and deodorant. But you have no idea what the ladies went through. And I really don't feel like laying it out for you, except to say that it got pretty ugly. Trust me."

Eli chuckled and then a look of realization and then another of horror crossed his face.

"Just figure it out, did we?"

Eli nodded dumbly.

Camile patted his back patronizingly. "It's okay, Eli. Breathe."

"You're mean."

Camile simply smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Come on, we're due in the Gateroom. James has another surprise for you. Plus the General wanted to see you."

"Me? I do something wrong already?"

Camile shrugged. "With you, I'm never sure."

They walked for a few minutes before Eli spoke again. "Just out of curiosity is there anyone else from the Destiny here at the SGC?"

Camile smirked. "Funny you should mention that – as a matter of fact, no. At least, not yet, anyway."

"Yet?" Eli asked.

But he never got an answer because at that moment they walked into the Gateroom. Upon noticing his stupefied look, Camile smiled.

"Eli?"

"Yeah?" he said distractedly, his eyes never leaving the Stargate.

"We're supposed to report to General Carter?"

Eli shook his head, as if coming out of a trance. "Right. The new boss lady."

"Exactly. Come on."

They made their way across the room to a raised alcove, where the staff overseeing Gate operations was stationed.

They found James there overlooking some sort of paperwork. She briefly made eye-contact with Camile before returning her attention to it.

"Hey, Camile," she said distractedly. "I thought you were picking up Eli."

"He's right here."

"Oh really? Where?" she asked as her head rose from the paperwork again and started looking around, her eyes going right over him.

Eli frowned, and then raised his hand awkwardly.

"Um, Vanessa. I'm right here."

James finally made eye-contact with him and her eyes widened comically in surprise.

"Eli? My God, where did the rest of you go?"

Eli looked puzzled for a moment before he smiled. "Oh, right. Yeah, I guess I've lost some weight since the last time you saw me."

"Some? I didn't even recognize you. Come here." She pulled him into a brief hug. "It's good to see you again."

"You, too, Vanessa."

"James. You're a civilian so you don't have to refer to me by rank. But you are under my command, and I'd prefer it if you used my last name."

"Not a problem. To be honest, I always had to struggle to call you 'Vanessa' anyway, since you always just went by 'James' on Destiny."

James nodded. "And what about you? Do you want me to call you 'Mister Wallace'?"

Eli grimaced. "No thanks. 'Eli' is fine. 'Mister Wallace' makes me want to look over my shoulder for my dad."

James nodded. "Alright. We'll keep it casual then. Camile asked for everything to be kept casual, too, unless she's in official negotiations."

"Cool."

"So this is Eli, huh?" said an amused voice from behind him.

"General Carter," James said, acknowledging the presence of her CO. "I'd like to introduce to you Destiny's famed Math Boy – Eli Wallace.

Eli turned around and went to shake her hand.

"We've met once or twice," Carter said. "Say when is the fleet getting those new naquadria reactors McKay's been gushing about?"

"We start installing in about five months, assuming we get the funding," Eli said with a proud smile.

"Excellent. Oh, I had a conversation with McKay about you?"

"You did?"

"Yeah, he was telling me about a problem you've been working on for a while: trying to mathematically prove using stars to power ships. It sounded fascinating, so I had him send me some of your preliminary notes. Well, long story short, I got bored last night and went ahead and solved it for you. Here you go."

General Carter handed Eli a folded piece of paper that he stared at in horror.

"You – you solved it?" he asked in quiet voice.

He knew that General Carter was a certified genius, at least on the level of McKay, if not smarter. She was a legend for a reason after all. But to solve his equation, his baby, just like that? After all the work he had put in?

"Oh, yeah. It was really ground-breaking stuff. Took me almost an entire hour."

"An – an hour?" This time his voice squeaked.

"Yeah, I know," she said, sounding embarrassed. "But what can I say, I got hungry halfway through and decided to make a sandwich."

"Sandwich?" Eli looked about ready to pass out.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you could look over the proof for me. You know, verify my results."

Eli nodded dumbly at her, and began to open the folded piece of paper with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to his own execution. When he fully unfolded it, he read it.

_To the Philistine,_

_Vengeance is mine._

_McKay_

Suddenly there was a flash of light. Eli looked up to see James holding a cell phone and smirking.

"Oh, that one's a keeper," she said before laughing. A chorus of chuckles and clapping from around the room joined her. Eventually, Eli joined in as well. He was generally a good sport, after all. And he probably did look pretty funny.

"Welcome to the SGC," General Carter finally told him with a smile. He smiled back.

His own vengeance could wait.

* * *

><p>"Three weeks?" Major James asked in disbelief. "That's it? That's all we get for training? Camile and Eli are just civilians."<p>

General Carter sighed. "Look, Major, I know it's not ideal, but it's the best we can do. You're the only exploration team I got right now, and I need you out there yesterday. I'm going to try to pull some strings and see if I can get some more personnel suited to this kind of thing, but that's months away at best. We all have to play the hand we're dealt."

James sighed. "Would they really take Eli away, General?"

"For a start."

James nodded. "Three weeks it is, then. I'll just have to get Greer to push them." She smirked. "I'll try to keep him from enjoying it too much."

"It shouldn't be too bad. Both Camile and Eli have experience on the Destiny. So it's not as if they're coming into this completely green. What makes someone really shine in this program is how they handle unforeseen situations. And you know they got that. Hell, that's part of the reason you picked them."

James took a deep breath. She knew she was right. "I'll make this work, General."

"Good. Oh, before I forget, two things – First, here's the paperwork for Greer's promotion."

James smiled. "It went through?"

"Yeah. He was long overdue anyway."

"Excellent. And the other thing?"

General Carter smiled and handed her an official-looking letter. James started to read it, and smiled widely.

"I was wondering when you'd assign us a number."

* * *

><p>Camile Wray stared at herself in the mirror. She was wearing the traditional green fatigues civilians usually wore when off-world.<p>

She began tying her newly cut hair, so she could put on her green hat. She had noticed how many of the female soldiers had to tie their long hair into buns and figured that she would rather just cut it shorter. Now her hair only hung to just above her shoulders, allowing her to easily tie it into a pony tail. She wasn't quite sure if she liked the look of it, yet – she was just so used to having long hair – but Sarah had been an immediate fan. She said it made her look regal – whatever that meant.

Once she was done, she put her hat on – Vanessa had reminded her more than once to call it a cover, but she didn't think she could with a straight face. Afterwards she turned left and right, looking at herself from a couple different angles. Eventually she began staring at the patch on her uniform, the one with her new SG Team number underneath the Stargate symbol for Earth.

She smiled. She never thought her life would lead her to this. Even when she first heard about the program, she had thought that her responsibilities would only ever be on Earth. She had never expected Icarus, or Destiny – and she certainly couldn't have predicted this: being part of an SG Team, exploring the galaxy, meeting new civilizations.

It was a dream, just not the type she had. She was usually far too sensible for ideas like this. Even as a child she had never imagined herself doing anything like this. But that had been before Destiny.

Camile grabbed her duffel bag. Her team was going away for three weeks of training at Camp Hell. After that they'd have a brief layover back here in Colorado, and then they would begin their real missions.

She hesitated very briefly, wondering if she should call Sarah again, but decided against it. They had already said their goodbyes. There was no sense in worrying her needlessly.

Camile took a deep, calming breath.

"I can do this," she told herself.

And amazingly enough, she really believed that.

With that final boost of confidence, she stepped out of her room, and walked toward the Gateroom. It was time for a new start.

* * *

><p>General Carter stared at the three of them from behind the safety glass of the observatory. The SGC's newest team, the first one put together since she took over operations at the SGC – and possibly the most important.<p>

Only she, Major James and General O'Neil knew that the entire future of the SG program rested on their shoulders. And there they were, just smiling and laughing at one another like old friends – which they were. For a moment, she wondered if Hammond ever felt like this watching SG-1.

She smiled sadly.

"Chevron Seven locked and encoded," a lieutenant said in a bored monotone.

There was a flash and then a sideways explosion of energy that never failed to look just like water. The wormhole had been established.

"We have a stable wormhole," the lieutenant said in the same tone.

* * *

><p>Major James stared at the event horizon of the wormhole for only a couple seconds before she thumbed the mike on her receiver.<p>

"General Carter, this is Major James asking permission to disembark."

She looked to Eli and then Camile. Their smiles were ear-to-ear. She smiled back at them.

"Major James, this is General Carter – you have a go. Good luck out there, SG-42."

"Copy that, General."

James turned again to her teammates. "Well, guys, you heard the nice lady. Time to play in the shiny water."

With that, the three of them walked onto the ramp side-by-side, with James in the middle. They stopped just in front of the event horizon, inhaled a deep breath – Eli's being comically large – and stepped through.

The first step of a new destiny.

**End of Chapter 5**

* * *

><p><em><span>Author's Note:<span>__ Sorry about the little wait. I got slightly bogged down in one section. I had some text that I stubbornly held onto for a few days even though it took my story to a tangent I didn't want it too. It was well-written, but it just didn't belong. Eventually, I had to make the painful decision to cut it. After that, though, the rest of this chapter flowed like water. That should teach me to trust my gut more often._

_Also thanks for all the recommendations. I'm definitely taking them under consideration. I think I'm going to take an episodic approach for now, until I come up with any story arcs. I just want to write something fun for a while. I also need to do some research to assure that I don't conflict SG canon too badly._

_Here's to Life, the Universe and Everything, folks._


	6. We Need a Montage

**Chapter 6 – We Need a Montage**

SG-42 stepped through the gate and arrived in Camp Hell. They were greeted by a man waiting at parade rest. When Major James was within a few feet of him, he snapped to attention and saluted her.

"Master Sergeant Ronald Greer, reporting for duty, Major."

James saluted back. "At ease, Sergeant. And welcome to SG-42." She then moved to shake his hand, Greer happily complied.

"Greer?" Eli finally asked after blinking away his surprise.

Greer turned toward him, and after a moment recognized him.

"Eli? My God, is that you? I could barely recognize you without the baby fat," Greer grasped his hand warmly. "Don't tell me that the Major suckered you into this, too?"

"I'm afraid so."

"So you're going to be our squad geek?"

"I prefer the term 'squad super-geek', but yeah, that's me."

"Outstanding. It's good to see you again."

"Sergeant," Camile greeted awkwardly.

"Camile," Greer responded back equally as apprehensive.

"Can't you just feel the love?" Eli said after a long awkward silence.

Major James felt an urge to sigh, but didn't. Making a point to actively stay composed she just spoke to Greer again.

"I've got some bad news, Sergeant. We're only cleared for three weeks of training here at Camp Hell, and then we report for duty back in Cheyenne."

Greer looked like he wanted to complain, but managed to stay composed as well. Three weeks was not nearly enough time to get two civilians ready for gate travel. Although he supposed that Camile and Eli weren't typical civilians.

"I'll revise the schedule and make sure the most important things are taken care of."

"Excellent. By the way, Sergeant," James said with a widening smile. "Were you aware that you're out of uniform?"

* * *

><p>Senior Master Sergeant Greer stared at the new patch on his arm that made up his new rank. He just managed to get one set of BDUs finished. The rest would be taken care of in the morning. Thankfully Camp Hell came equipped with a laundry staff that could make alterations.<p>

He hadn't had a promotion since right before being assigned to Icarus several years ago. Apparently punching out an up-and-coming colonel was not a good career move. Still, he didn't regret it. Telford had it coming. And from what the Major had told her earlier he still did.

Telford had apparently spent his time as head of Cheyenne Mountain doing everything he could to dismantle it. Greer had heard of the rumors of course. Stuck on a secluded off-world training facility for years, one can't help but overhear some gossip at least. No matter how hard one tried. But he had always just waved it off as people wanting to complain about their commanding officers. And that was every enlisted man's God-given right, whether there was any basis to the griping or not.

And now General Carter was in a position where she had to get this team ready to go in three weeks. And from the results of the first day of training it was going to be a long three weeks.

Today had just been a series of PT Exercises and classes. The classroom stuff went over well enough. As an instructor himself, Greer knew the information backwards and forwards. For James the classes had just been a refresher course. And thankfully Eli and Camile were smart enough to catch on quick.

The PT was another matter entirely.

It was just a two-mile run. They didn't even put gear on them. James had done as well as her previous scores indicated, which was impressive given that she'd been on a ship for nearly two years. He'd seen first-hand plenty of cases of soldiers letting their training slide on a ship. There wasn't much space to run and sharing gym facilities with fifty other soldiers could get frustrating.

Camile and Eli had finished the run, which was saying something. Not all civilians could their first time around. Still, their times weren't exactly stellar. Tomorrow they would do the run again. And the day after that they would do it carrying a full load of gear. As an exploration team, they would generally be packing light. Still it would be best for them to get used to the weight.

After all, Murphy's Law took on a whole new meaning off-world.

* * *

><p>Greer stood in front of Camile, Eli and James at a firing range holding a rifle for their inspection.<p>

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is the HK416 assault rifle. It was designed by Heckler and Koch as a hopeful replacement to the Colt M16 and Colt M4 respectively. God willing, this weapon will one day be in the hands of every US Armed Forces Serviceman in the known universe. As it stands this weapon is the preferred rifle of the Stargate program.

"It is a rugged, refined and lethal piece of modern engineering that humbles even me. I could quite literally talk about this weapon all day with a smile on my face. And if these were normal classroom conditions I would. Instead I will delve immediately into the more practical aspects of this weapon, including proper maintenance, optional load outs, and even the proper way to fire this bad boy.

"By tomorrow, you will be required to complete a qualification of this weapon. If you fail, than you will have another chance to qualify the next day. And if you somehow manage to fail even that then congratulations. You have just joined a very exclusive club. Because only three percent of the people that have ever touched this weapon in this camp were somehow incompetent enough not to qualify with it. Granted, they are usually given significantly more training with the weapon before testing, and have more than likely trained with either the M16 or M4 beforehand, and, not to mention, are usually selected from the best of the best of the world's various military forces. Still, I'm pretty confident when I say that none of that will matter when you hear the snickering in the mess hall.

"That being said, I have never had anyone not qualify on the HK416 in the two years I have been on this rock. And I do not intend to break that record. So let's get started."

Eli gulped, and then turned quietly to Camile.

"So no pressure, right?"

Camile stifled a giggle.

"I heard that, Eli," Greer said. "We'll see who's laughing when we get to the practical exercises of the Zat'Niketels. The first shot is on the house."

* * *

><p>Today was the first day of running with full gear. Greer checked the stopwatch again and resisted the urge to growl. His team should have shown up five minutes ago, at the latest.<p>

But then he spotted three figures huddled together. Major James was in the middle basically supporting both Camile and Eli.

"Well, that's encouraging," he said sarcastically.

* * *

><p>Greer blew a whistle.<p>

"Eli, keep those arms moving! If your head dips below that water again, I have to fail you, do you understand that?"

"Greer!" Eli said with a small gasp. He was nearly out of breath from the constant aerobic movement needed to keep his head above water. "Most Stargates are found – hundreds of miles – from bodies of water. Is drown-proofing – really necessary?" he managed to ask through fits of ragged breaths.

"I got one word for you, Eli. Atlantis."

* * *

><p>Camile growled in frustration.<p>

"Greer, my rifle's not working!"

Greer sighed.

"Check the safety, Camile. Again."

She fumbled with the weapon for a moment. "Ooh! – Hey! – I got it now!"

"Excellent. Now, take a deep breath. Check your sights and—" Greer managed to say before being interrupted by Camille firing several shots accidentally.

"Um – I'm sorry," she said in a quiet voice. "Those don't count, right?"

Greer sighed again.

* * *

><p>"So how are they doing?" James asked Greer as they were sitting down to eat chow in the mess hall.<p>

"Permission to speak freely, Major?"

"No."

Greer paused for a moment. "They're doing great," he said with a thumbs-up.

* * *

><p>Greer clicked the stopwatch as Major James along with Eli and Camile finally showed up from their latest run with gear.<p>

"Well, at least she didn't carry them this time," he muttered.

* * *

><p>This seemed almost impossible. He wouldn't have believed it, if he hadn't seen it for himself. He pulled out his pen and signed off on the sheet.<p>

"Camile Wray. You officially qualify for the HK416. Congratulations."

Camile Wray threw her hands in the air in victory.

* * *

><p>"She passed?"Major James asked amazed. "That's great. I was worried she was going to tarnish you're record there, Sergeant."<p>

"Yeah, don't remind me. But she didn't just pass, Major. Those were some of the best damn groupings I've ever seen in a civilian. She might just be a natural sharpshooter. Hell, with a little more training I'd have no problem sending her to Sniper School."

James smiled. "Excellent. What about Eli?"

"He qualified for all the weapons – slightly above-average score for civilians. His pistol scores were extremely good though. Now if I could just get him to stop making Robocop sound effects, I'd feel pretty confident in his shooting."

* * *

><p>"I really don't see what the big deal was," Eli said, sounding annoyed and exasperated.<p>

Major James and Camile Wray walked in front of him, looking pissed off and feeling embarrassed. Greer, in the meanwhile, was next to him with a blank expression on his face.

"I was just trying to help," he continued.

"Help?" James said in a growl. "Eli, you were supposed to listen in on the class of wormhole theory, and take notes so we can all take a test on it tomorrow. Not make snide comments, until the guy ran screaming out the door!"

"Well, he shouldn't have been such a crybaby about being wrong, should he?" he said, defending himself.

"Eli!" she growled.

"Look, Major. How about you and Camile make it to the next class, while I take Mr. Smarty-pants here on a fun little jogging trip?" Greer said, attempting to diffuse the situation.

James fumed for a moment, before nodding. "Just get him away from me before I shoot him." With that James and Camile stormed off.

Once they were far enough away the two men started laughing uproariously.

"Told you I could do it," Eli said between chuckles.

Greer opened his wallet, pulled out sixty bucks and handed it to Eli.

"Man, you actually got Kavanagh to cry! I've been taking that guy's crap for two years! Worth every penny!"

* * *

><p>"Is it me, or are almost all the soldiers clapping Eli on the back?" James asked.<p>

Camile just shrugged.

* * *

><p>Greer eyed the stopwatch as James, Camile and Eli came in after their run.<p>

"Well, I'll be damned," he said with a smile.

**End of Chapter 6**

* * *

><p><em><span>Author's Note:<span>__ Sorry about the time this took. But writing a montage is freaking hard. Plus I've been writing lots and lots of fluff for my gaming group. Writing fiction for something only six people are going to read is a weird sensation. In between that I also finally read Game of Thrones. Awesomeness._

_Oh, hey, I'm throwing down a challenge. If anyone wants to add an omake of the training session I'll be sure to include them in subsequent chapters, providing that they're funny. They don't necessarily have to fit continuity since this is just for fun._


End file.
